


Look Around Harry

by ThatIsTheOsbornWay



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man 2
Genre: F/M, Green Goblin - Freeform, Gwen Stacy - Freeform, Oscorp - Freeform, Peter Parker - Freeform, Ravencroft, Spider-Man - Freeform, amazing Spider-Man 2, harry osborn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:58:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatIsTheOsbornWay/pseuds/ThatIsTheOsbornWay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room contorts, swaying and tilting like a boat caught in a storm. Harry screams falling back onto the floor "No!" He sobs trying to get up as the bare room stretches out before him.<br/>"Harry!" A voice yells and Harry sees his mother once again, sinking down into the hard ground like it was nothing but quicksand.<br/>"No!! Mom please! Please don't leave me!!" Harry yells reaching out towards her, but his fingers only scraped against cold concrete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look Around Harry

"Harry" the whisper breathes into the room, entering the space like a ghost. He recognized that voice, but it wasn't the ones he was used to hearing. It wasn't the gravel of the goblin in his head, whispering sweet nothings, promises of power and safety. Or then other times whispering threats and words to make Harry feel scared and worthless.  
And it wasn't the whispers of Gwen.  
The sharpness from which she had spoke his name before he had dropped her to her death. How she had tried to get his attention and make him see what he was doing.  
This was different.  
The voice of this whisper was one that belonged to bedtime stories, to lullabies, to soothing words on nightmares and boo boos.  
This was Harry's mother.  
Her voice filled with warmth and softness, and a musical lilt that flowed through it.  
There wasn't that much Harry remembered about his mother, he was so young when she had died.  
But he remembered little things, flashings of memories that were engraved somewhere in his mind and reminded about from old photographs he had found hidden away in his father's closet.  
Her eyes a brilliant blue, the same icy color that graced Harry's eyes. It was something Harry had heard all his life. That he had his mother's eyes.  
And he was certain that it was one of the reason's his father looked at him with such hate and contempt.  
Every time Norman looked at his son it was a reminder of what he had lost, the beautiful woman that had softened his heart and then broke it.  
The fact that if she had never given birth to Harry she would probably still be alive, because it was the birth that weakened her. Harry had plenty of Norman's blame, and his own guilt to accompany it.  
Harry sat up quickly in his bed that was already a tangle of sheets from his tossing and turning. He blinks, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.  
"Harry" the whisper came again and Harry's eyes flickered around the room for the source of the sound, his mind trying to rationalize what he was hearing. But her voice was unmistakeable.  
"Mom?" Harry chokes out.  
He wasn't sure if he was relieved or heartbroken when he didn't get a reply.  
Harry curses under his breath dragging himself out of his bed and padding over to the bar he had insisted come with the flat he was renting. When he first came back to New York he had refused to stay in the gigantic mansion that had been his childhood home. The vast rooms and empty hallways were too full of ghosts, but it seemed like they had followed him here anyway.  
Harry sighs grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring it into a glass that he kept on hand. Lifting the cup to his lips he swallowed down the amber colored liquid, letting the liquor burn down his throat and hoping it would sear away the memories that were dangerously bubbling to the surface.  
"Harry, you shouldn't drink"  
Harry spins around quickly and nearly drops the glass he was holding.  
Because there she was.  
Emily Osborn.  
Sitting there so calmly like she wasn't out of place.  
"You..you're not..you're not here.." Harry mutters, keeping a distance from the ghost of a person that looked so damn real.  
Her lips lift into a smile, a sad but comforting kind of smile, like the look of someone who was telling bad news and trying to give it to them gently.  
"I know Harry..but that doesn't mean I can't help."  
"I don't need any help" Harry says, but not even he believes himself.  
"Yes you do..Harry look around." She says, her voice just as soft and soothing as he remembered it to be.  
"You have to get a hold of yourself or you'll never get out of here" she says standing up and walking over to him.  
"What are you talking about?" Harry swallows, not taking his eyes off of her in fear that she would disappear. As strange as it was to see her there he also didn't want her to leave.  
"Harry" she whispers slowly reaching out and taking his hands in hers, and he didn't even have a chance to wonder where the glass he was holding went to.  
"Harry, you have to think. You have to get out of here. Please, look around Harry. Where do you think you are?"  
"I'm..I'm at home.." Harry says furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Mom..please. I miss you.."  
She smiles reaching up and cupping his face in her hands that were strangely warm.  
"Look around Harry. Look around for me." She insists.  
Harry blinks and Emily is gone.  
"Mom?" Harry gasps, his breath misting out of his lips in the sudden coldness of the room.  
The room that was no longer his house.  
The room was empty, cold concrete beneath his bare feet, a small bed with a lumpy mattress and no sheets in one corner, and a cold steel table in the other with a small dirty mirror positioned above it. Harry's breath grows heavy, his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly walks toward it. He looks into the mirror and Screams as he sees the deformed face of the Goblin and he finally remembers exactly where he was.  
Ravencroft.  
The room contorts, swaying and tilting like a boat caught in a storm. Harry screams falling back onto the floor "No!" He sobs trying to get up as the bare room stretches out before him.  
"Harry!" A voice yells and Harry sees his mother once again, sinking down into the hard ground like it was nothing but quicksand.  
"No!! Mom please! Please don't leave me!!" Harry yells reaching out towards her, but his fingers only scraped against cold concrete.  
And then she was gone.  
And Harry was alone in the small cold room, curled into a ball, his hands clutched over his ears in an attempt to block out the screams that still seemed to reverberate around the room.


End file.
